OCR Text |
Show MY FRIEND -ST J? MARVO'HARA le!ii8Wi5ai THE STORY SO FAR: Ten-year-old Ken McLaughlin, given an opportunity to eboose any yearling on his family's Wyoming Wy-oming ranch, picks the filly of a "loco" mare. His father, a retired army offl. cer, is disappointed by Ken's choice and by his failure at school. When Flicka, the filly, is badly hurt trying to Jump the corral fence. Ken takes the opportunity to make friends with the wild little colt. But Flicka grows steadily worse, and Captain McLaughlin orders Gus, the foreman, fore-man, to shoot her. Ken goes out to the pasture when the others are asleep and finds Flicka trapped In a stream but - alive. He wades into the stream and holds her head out of the water. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER XVIII i Gus stood up, slowly, the gun fn his hand, and stood there, hesitating. He had received his orders. He was to shoot Flicka some time soon, when Ken was not around. There would never be a better moment. A minute or so passed, while the Swede stood looking down at the filly and pondering the situation. ' Then, straightening up, he put the Winchester Win-chester in the crook of his left arm, raised his eyes to scan the sky and read the weather signs, and his hands automatically fumbled in his clothing for his pipe, tobacco, and matches. A few puffs of his pipe would help him to think this out. That the filly might actually recov er was hardly likely. He wondered how long Ken had been holding her there was no telling they were all familiar with Ken's habits he might have been there since dawn. He found that his mind had made Itself up while he stood there smoking. smok-ing. He would not shoot Flicka just yet. Perhaps, by the time Ken had had his breakfast and got warmed up, he might have something to say that would change his father's mind. The man walked back up the little path, and on to the bunk house. Ken's condition had been growing steadily worse. In spite of the hot blankets, chills shook him every few minutes until his teeth chattered. His temperature was 103 when Nell put him to bed. By noon it was 104. Much of the time he slept, or, at least, thought Nell as she sat beside be-side the bed, holding one of his thin, helpless-feeling hands in both of hers, he was in some sort of unconsciousness. un-consciousness. She wondered if the filly was alive or dead. And then came a deeper wonder, at the way the lives of the two, boy and filly, seemed intertwined. inter-twined. The day grew darker and more gloomy. Once, there was a sudden sound like the soft rolling of a corps of drums a mere whisper. Nell went to the window and saw that it was rain. It rolled to a crescendo, then died away in a murmur mur-mur not a minute in all. The sky was massed with low clouds. The cure of a patient by a doctor Is supposed to begin, they say, when the doctor sets his foot in the house. When Nell heard the men's voices below and their steps on the stairs, she experienced an emotion that shook her so strongly that all her hardihood left her, and she covered her face with her hands for a moment. mo-ment. Then she lifted her head and went to the door to greet them. . Ken was tossing and muttering. He did not know the doctor. As Dr. Scott made the examination examina-tion he was told what had happened. That Ken's filly was ill dying and that Ken had gone down to her late the night before and had, apparently, apparent-ly, been in the water most of the eight, holding the horse In his arms. "His school opens Monday day after tomorrow," said Rob, ending on a question. The doctor shook his head, said, "Not a chance," and put the covers back, parting the jacket of Ken's pajamas, and loosening the tie of the trousers, baring the narrow brown body, laying his fingers on it, tapping them. ' "Perhaps by the end of the week?" asked Rob. "Not likely," said Scott cheerfully. cheerful-ly. "Sometimes children surprise you; blow up something like this and then get right over it. But his fever is 104. He's got something I don't know what yet." For a few minutes there was silence. si-lence. The room was getting quite dark. Suddenly it was brightly lit by a shimmering of sheet lightning, and the doctor glanced at the window and said, "Gonna have some weather." weath-er." In the darkness that followed the lightning came a rush and a roar of wind that sucked through the Gorge, bent every tree on the Hill and slammed the kitchen door. Nell lit the kerosene lamp and he doctor stood up and looked down at Ken. The boy's eyes were closed now, and he lay motionless, drawing draw-ing rapid breaths through dry parted part-ed lips. "He's a very sick boy," said Scott "What is this? I saw Ken early last spring. What's happened to him this summer? I wouldn't know him for the same boy it's not only this cold and fever " Nell and Rob looked at each other. It was not an easy question, there was so much to telL They went downstairs with the doctor and Rob said, "It's this horse that he's been breaking his heart about." The doctor was puzzled. "Has he been sick before this?" "Not sick exactly," said Nell, "but on an awful strain, because she's been sick." Scott could see that Nell was anxious anx-ious to get back to Ken. He put on his things. "I won't keep you, Mother" (he called all women Mother). Moth-er). "You want to get back to him. Rob, he's got to have some medicine medi-cine right away." "I'll follow you in to town," said Rob, "and bring it back." He reached for Nell, took her in his arms and hugged and kissed her. "Now don't worry so, darling, the kid'll be all right." "Of course," said Nell. "I'll go back to him." The doctor gave her some final instructions for Ken's care and went out with Rob. Gus had gone about his work all day, thinking of Flicka. He had not been back to look at her. He had been given no more orders. If she was alive, the order to shoot her was still in effect. But Kennie was ill, McLaughlin making his second trip to town to buy medicines, and would not be back till long after dark. He did not know just what to do. After Tim and Gus had their supper in the bunk house, they walked down to the creek. They Be might bave been there since dawn. did not speak as they approached the filly, lying stretched out flat on the grassy bank, just as Gus had left her; but their eyes were straining strain-ing at her to see if she was dead or alive. She raised her head as they reached her. "By the Powers!" exclaimed Tim. "There she is!" She dropped her headv raised it again, and moved her legs and became be-came tense as if struggling to rise. The men cheered her on. She rolled over on her belly, reached out her forefeet and scrambled halfway up. "Yee whiz!" said Gus. "She got plenty strent yet." "Hi!" cheered Tim. "She's up!" But Flicka wavered, slid down again and lay flat. This time she gave notice that she would not try again by heaving a deep sigh and closing her eyes. Gus took his pipe out of his mouth and thought it over. Orders or no orders, he would try to save the filly. Ken had gone too far to be let down. "Ay'm goin to rig a blanket sling fur her, Tim, and get her on her feet and keep her up. If she's got a chance, that'll help. If she ain't it'll do no harm anyway." While they were getting the tools, the post-hole digger and shovel, crowbar, ropes, and blanket, the downpour of rain came again. This time it was persistent The two men went to the bunk house, put on their oilskins, and brought a couple of lanterns with them when they carried car-ried the stuff down to the creek. Flicka was just as they had left her. "She's sure goin to get another drenching," said Tim. "Won't hurt her," said the Swede. "She bin out in tunderstorms since she bin born." It took them an hour to rig the sling. They struck rocks in their digging which had to be pried out. Flicka was lying on a piece of level sward, only a little higher than the level of the creek. To the far side, the ground rose sharply behind her, in a steep hill which, on part of its surface, was a sheer slide of rock another of the rock-slides which were characteristic of the terrain of the ranch. The men set two tall and sturdy aspen poles deep Into the ground on each side of the filly, then rolled her onto the folded blanket The ends of the blanket were gathered and the rope tied on to them in a knot which, the more weight was on it. the tighter it was drawn. The tops of the posts were notched, and a crowbar laid across them. The end of each rope was passed through a hole bored through the post a few inches below the notch; and when everything was ready, Gus said, "Altogether, now " They each pulled on their rope, and the blanket and filly rose off the earth together. When she had reached a height where her feet just lightly touched the earth, they let be, and fastened the ends of the ropes to the crowbar. So she hung not in the least disconcerted, dis-concerted, and when Tim brought her a bucket of water, put her nose ! in it and drank. While the two men were carrying the tools back to the tool house, the heavens let loose. "We're in for it now," said Tim. "I didn't think it could last much longer." "I'm glad ve got de tarps stretched over dem stacks," said Gus. "De hay's not packed hard." When they reached the ranch house, he handed Tim the tools he was carrying. "I'm gonna stop here, Tim, and see if de Missus need any-ting any-ting an fin' out how de little feller is " Tim went on without him, and Gus went into the kitchen, where the oil lamp was hung on the wall beside the stove, and removed his slicker. Nell heard him stamping about and hurried downstairs. "Is that you, Gus?" "Ja, Missus how is de little boy?" "Oh, Gus, we don't know yet he seems pretty sick." Nell's face was worn and anxious. Standing there, belted in her narrow gray flannel wrapper, she looked slim and childish. child-ish. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, shoul-ders, and she put up a hand and pushed it back with a weary gesture. ges-ture. "Gus is Flicka dead?" "No'm. Tim and I, we just got tru fixin her up in a blanket sling. She can't stand alone; but dere's life in her, and she reached for de bucket of vater and drank it down like a good von." 1 Nell's eyes sank to the floor, and she stood a moment in thought tapping tap-ping her foot. "You didn't shoot her," she said, just thinking out loud. "Gus, did he did Captain McLaughlin say you didn't have to shoot her?" "No'm, he told me last night to find a time when Ken wasn't around and shoot her. But ven I found 'em like dat dis mornin' I I " "I know," said Nell quickly. "I know what you mean. Well I'll tell Ken. Maybe it'll help him it'll make him so happy that she's still alive. Gus, now you're here, I want you to set up a cot for me in Ken's room, so I can sleep there and take care of him. It's down in the cellar you'll have to bring it up." "I know vere it is, ma'm," said Gus soothingly. "Now you go up to de little boy, and I'll bring de cot up and set it up for you." Nell ran upstairs, and found Ken's eyes wide open. He moved every few seconds, turning from one side to the other. His breath was shallow, shal-low, often with long pauses between. She sat on the edge of the bed, bent over him and smiled into his. eyes with deep, penetrating love. The faintest smile appeared on his lips in answer. She smoothed the hair back from his forehead, then took one of his hands in both of hers and said, "Kennie did you know that Flicka seems a little better? Gus has fixed a blanket sling for her, and they've got her up in it, and she drank some water when they held the bucket for her." The boy's face changed as if a light had broken over it, and his lips moved,, but no words came. "Maybe just maybe, darling she'll live after all. We'll do the best we can but you mustn't hope too hard." Ken was trying to move his lips again. At last she heard the words, ' 'But D ad gave the order " At that moment Gus entered the room carrying the cot Then he brought the mattress; and as they set it up, Ken's eyes followed their movements. Gus tip-toed to the side of his bed and looked down at him. "De filly's up, Kennie now you be good boy an' soon you be up too " "Gus" "Ja?" "Did Dad tell you you didn't need to shoot her?" "No, Kennie, but I ain't done it yet und maybe he change his mind " Kennie's face changed. He closed his eyes and a look of dread and pain was upon his lips. Gus tip-toed out of the room, and presently Nell heard a whisper from the bed. "Mother?" "Yes, darling." "Where's Dad now?" "He went to town, dear, to get some medicines the doctor ordered for you." Ken said nothing more. He seemed to be sleeping, and Nell went quietly about the business of making up the cot for the night Presently he spoke again. "Will he be back soon?" "Any time now, dear, I think." Ken lay with eyes closed, but Nell, every time she looked at him, realized real-ized that he was tense, listening for the sound of the Studebaker roaring up the hill. (TO BE COSTLMED) |